Missed Connection
by rabid behemoth
Summary: Sakura misses her train, but meets a man from another lifetime. AU oneshot. [ItaSaku]


- o -

**Missed Connection**

- o -

Sakura was late.

She raced through the crowd clutching the shoulder strap of her book bag in one hand, cup of hot coffee in the other. The line at the cafe had been long, and if she missed the next train to campus she'd be late for Pharmacology class _again_. And if Professor Tsunade caught her interrupting the lecture to sneak into a seat in back one more time she could kiss her internship goodbye. That woman pulled no punches.

Sakura steadied her cup as she ran, twisting her wrist around to glance at her watch. It read 11:58.

_Shit!_

She ducked around a hand-holding couple that were threatening to accidentally clothesline her. She dodged an oncoming toddler running after his mother. She jumped over the outstretched cane of an old man sitting on a bench. She did not spill a drop of her coffee. But the doors were closing, and she still had 30 feet to go. She poured all her speed into her legs.

_No! They're early!_ Stricken, she checked her watch. Sure enough, the traitorous hands showed 11:59. The second hand ticked off the countdown to her defeat: five, four, three, two —

She slammed into a hard wall. Her momentum carried her forward into the obstacle. Her coffee went flying, satchel spewing books and papers everywhere. Dazed, she blinked at the object trapped beneath her. It was a person. Eyes widening, she scrambled off.

"I am SO sorry!" she wailed, extending a hand to help him up. The man didn't take it, climbing elegantly to his feet of his own accord. He towered over her, brushing dirt off his dark suit.

"It's fine."

Sakura's head whipped around as her train pulled away from the station. She stifled some colorful language, gazing after it with longing. She turned back to her unwitting victim.

"Believe me, I am _really_ sor —"

She cut off at the sight of him, breath caught in her throat. He was probably in his early twenties, tall and lean, with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. From what she could see of his face behind his dark, expensive-looking sunglasses (an unusual accessory for the underground station), he was extremely handsome. Like, one-could-make-a-living-having-a-face-like-this attractive. But it wasn't just his jawline or the shape of his high cheekbones that caught Sakura's attention. There was something strangely familiar about his features that she couldn't place. She was certain she'd never seen this man before in her life, but his was a face she'd recognize even outside the realm of possibility.

Realizing she was struck dumb, Sakura tore her eyes from his face to take in the rest of him. He wore an understated, black pinstriped suit over a red shirt and black tie. An odd 30's-style fedora perched atop his head, somehow looking more stylish than out-of-place on him. A red handkerchief protruded from his front breast pocket, over which a little red cloud was stitched. The stranger grasped the kerchief with long white fingers and tugged it out in one fluid motion. He proceeded to pat the front of his suit down.

That was when Sakura noticed the coffee stain.

"Oh no..." she squeaked, blood draining from her face. His suit probably cost more than her tuition for the entire semester. "I'm so sorry, I should compensate you..."

The man didn't seem to hear her. He scrubbed another second or so before giving up on the suit (it was beyond all help, really). He folded the handkerchief carefully and tucked it back in his front pocket. When he looked up at her, she noticed some indecipherable emotion cross his poker face, but it was impossible to tell what it was with the sunglasses on.

"It's fine."

He sank gracefully to one knee and began to gather her books. Stunned, it took Sakura a moment to react. She fell to the floor, crumpling up her papers and stuffing them into her bag haphazardly.

"No, it's not fine at all! Your suit looks really expensive and I completely ruined it!" she babbled, feeling like a tool. "Maybe I could —"

She cut off again when he stood. Throwing the last of her notes into her satchel, she scrambled to her feet after him. She was surprised to see a more defined expression on his face that might have been amusement. He offered her books in silence. She accepted, almost dropping them again when their fingers brushed. A jolt shot down her spine. He observed her distantly for a moment, seeming to x-ray her from behind his glasses. Sakura began to fidget under his scrutiny. Unable to bear the silence, she was about to speak up when he opened his mouth.

"You're a med student, correct?"

Sakura briefly wondered how he knew that, before she realized even an idiot could infer that much from the titles of her textbooks. She kicked herself mentally.

"Er — yeah."

"I assume you have significant student loans, tuition, and fees to pay for your schooling. Correct?"

Sakura was thrown. Her brow furrowed. "Well, yeah."

He assessed her dispassionately, looking her up and down at his leisure. She burned under his gaze, feeling inexplicably naked.

"Then how exactly were you planning to compensate me?"

Sakura's jaw hit the floor. She didn't know if he was implying something lewd, or if he was simply mocking her poverty, but either way he had crossed a line. She opened her mouth to read him the riot act when she noticed the twitch at the corner of his lips, like he was holding back a smile. Her jaw snapped shut and she sagged, anger washed away by confusion.

The strange man inclined his head to her and brushed past without another word. He disappeared into the crowd. Sakura stared after him.

Dazed, she hobbled over to the nearest bench and sat down with a thump. She had no idea what that encounter had been about. But now that it was over, she had the very pressing concern of how to excuse her absence to Professor Tsunade. She rifled through her bag with a sigh, trying to smooth out the crinkled notes she'd tossed in so carelessly.

A few minutes later, the distinct sound of a gunshot made her sit bolt upright. She looked around. About 50 feet away, the crowd was milling about in a frenzy. The screaming began.

"Police! Get the police! He's been shot!"

"He's dead!"

"Call an ambulance!"

"Did anyone see the shooter?!"

Sakura ran over. She elbowed her way through the panicked throng and caught a glimpse of the scene through a gap in the wall of bodies. A middle-aged man lay sprawled across the concrete. His head was blown clean off, gore spattered everywhere. There was nothing any ambulance could do for him. The crowd murmured in shocked outrage and fear. Somebody fainted. Nearby a child sobbed hysterically, clutching at her mother's skirt. Sakura took a step back, averting her eyes from the gruesome sight.

The station's security force was on them in an instant. The uniformed men milled about the crowd, directing people away and barking orders or questions. Sakura felt a firm tap on her shoulder. She turned and looked up into the grizzled face of an officer.

"You, girl," he growled. "Did you see anything?"

"N-no," Sakura stammered. "I was over by that bench." She pointed.

"Did you see any suspicious characters around just before the incident?"

An expensive pinstriped suit popped into Sakura's head. A handsome face, dark sunglasses, a distinctive hat. A red cloud embroidered on the breast pocket. Almost against her will, Sakura found herself shaking her head.

"N-no."

The cop squinted at her. "Are you sure? You didn't see _anyone_ suspicious?"

Sakura swallowed. "I'm sure."

Nodding, the officer jotted something down on a pad of paper and moved on to the next person.

Sakura wobbled her way back over to the bench on unsteady legs and sat. She was mystified by her own behavior. She thought of that poor dead man, brains blown out his ears. She couldn't know that the well-dressed stranger didn't have anything to do with this murder. In fact, he was rather suspicious. Wasn't it her duty to report anything even remotely strange? Why did she instinctively clam up like that?

Unable to shake off the feeling that there was more going on than she could understand, Sakura stared into space. She lost track of how long she sat on the bench for. Police filed about. The crime scene was cordoned off, foot traffic re-routed around the concourse. Gradually the surrounding area emptied until Sakura was left alone with someone reading a newspaper on the bench across from her. A cop approached.

"This section is closed now. Please go around to wait for your trains."

Sakura toyed with the notion of telling the policeman about the suspicious stranger, but her mouth didn't move. Instead she stood, gathered up her bag and began the trek towards the crowd on the opposite side of the concourse. She could hear light footfalls beside her, but she kept her unseeing eyes fixed on the floor. As they reached the crowd boarding the train, the newspaper rustled. The man lowered it and tucked it under his arm, stepping onto the train. Sakura looked up.

She froze. The stranger considered her for a moment before reaching up a hand to remove his sunglasses in one smooth motion. His eyes were black and fathomless — beautiful. They held Sakura's gaze prisoner for an immeasurable period — either a millisecond or an eternity — before he nodded once to her. The doors slid shut on his unreadable expression, leaving Sakura staring at her own reflection in the glass. With a lurch, the train rolled forward. Sakura watched it disappear around the corner.

She didn't know who that man was, what he was up to, or why she had protected him. But she was certain of one thing.

Somewhere, in another lifetime, he was hers.

- o -

**A/N: **This was just a short oneshot that popped into my head about an alternate universe in which the characters were weirdly aware of their own AU status. This vignette is over, but I might reuse the setting in the future depending on the kind of feedback I get on this. Thanks for reading!

**EDIT: Now being re-worked into a multichaptered fic! See my profile for more information. The new fic will be posted separately, so stayed tuned!**


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